My Girl
by Knut Case
Summary: "Did you hurt Lestrade?" Molly asked, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. He shrugged. "I might've had something to do with it." Molly gave him a look. "I had to send him a message!" James cried. Molliarty thingy. R&R.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock, I'm not that clever. I'm just... dabbling in the fanfiction.  
>Prompted by <strong><em>compositionc <em>****on Tumblr.****

Molly applied a coat of red lipstick over her already coloured in lips. She didn't appear to be much of a girly girl to most, but secretly she loved dressing up. It helped her feel less plain, if even a few people gave her a second glance. She smacked her lips together, and fixed her hair so it sat nicely. No doubt the wind would ruin it the moment she stepped out of her flat, but for the ten or so minutes before Greg picked her up, she'd look nice.

She smiled a little, never thinking that Lestrade would want to go out for a drink with her. There was a knock at the door, and she scuttled across the lino in her heels to get to it. It swung open, and her smile faltered.

"Evening, Miss Hooper"

"Jim." She didn't have anything else to say, too stunned to find him on her doorstep. Moriarty raised an eyebrow, then entered the house without an invitation. Molly just stepped back, and closed the door.

"What're you doing here?"

"I was in the neighbourhood" He replied, bending to scoop up Toby. The cat purred, recognising the criminal's unique scent. He positively _adored_ Jim. "You look very nice"

"Thankyou…" She replied warily, following him into the kitchen.

"Got a date, have we?" James asked, setting the kettle to boil. She felt a little smile creep onto her face as he made her a cup of coffee, exactly the way she liked it.

"Um… yes, actually. I have" She leaned against her table.

"With Lestrade?"

"How…?"

Moriarty grinned at her. "Oh please. I have eyes and ears everywhere. I know everything about you, Miss Hooper"

That made Molly blush. Had he seen her after she found out who he was? Her _slight_emotional breakdown… how she hated the feeling of being used.

"That's right. And I know that you don't really want to go out with Lestrade"

"Why not? He's a perfectly nice man, good looking, has a decent job"

Moriarty handed her the mug, and proceeded to invade her personal space.

"Because, my dear" He purred. "He's not me"

Molly shivered.

"I… I think you should leave, James. Greg will be here any moment, and if he catches you here, he'll arrest you on the spot"

Moriarty shrugged, and kissed her on the cheek.

"Enjoy your night, Molly dear"

And like that, he was gone. When Lestrade arrived a few minutes later, Molly was quite happy smiling and playing along. But Moriarty's words stuck in her mind.

_He's not me._

xXx

Molly paused in her writing as Sherlock strolled into the room like he owned the place. She was finishing up a report, but she'd left the body on the table, in case he wanted to examine it. He did.

John was also there, smiling in greeting and handing her a cup of coffee. Not as nice as Jim's, but a sweet gesture.

"Oh, thanks John"

"You're welcome. How're you holding up?" He asked, something like concern in his eyes, and his voice.

"… What do you mean?" She quizzed, and even Sherlock paused in his examinations to listen.

"Well… you and Lestrade… you're like, a thing now…" John began, and Molly cut him off.

"We only went out for one drink."

"Molly, Lestrade was in an accident last night" Sherlock told her, trying not to be as blunt as usual.

"…what?" Molly had to sit down. _He wouldn't have… would he?_

"He's perfectly fine" John assured her. "Just a few bruises and a sour temper. Says the car came out of nowhere and hit him, then took off without a second thought"

"What a… bastard" She finished lamely, and John put a hand on her shoulder.

"Sorry, we thought someone had told you"

"No, no it's alright" Molly said with a smile. "As long as he's okay"

xXx

The knock at her door didn't even surprise her. Molly got to her feet and slid along the lino in her socks, with Toby trotting at her heels. Moriarty grinned at her as the door swung inwards, offering a bunch of flowers and a bottle of wine.

"Miss me?"

"Did you hurt Lestrade?" She asked, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. He shrugged.

"I might've had something to do with it."

Molly gave him a look, and didn't step out of the way.

"I had to send him a message!" James cried, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Now can you let me in, please? The wine needs to be chilled."

Molly stepped aside, but he wasn't off the hook yet.

"What message did you need to send him that put him in _hospital_, Jim? Haven't you heard of texting?"

James laughed, and put the wine in the fridge, but didn't answer her question.

"James." Molly barked, and their eyes met. "What was the message?"

Moriarty moved towards her as gracefully as a big cat, a predator with prey in his sights. But Molly was tough. She didn't break eye contact, and didn't flinch under his gaze. His face was centimetres from hers when he told her.

"Not to touch my girl"

**A/N: R&R?  
>Stay Shiny<br>xx KnutCase **


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